A Piece of my Heart

Yesterday, I told you I loved you,

But I really don’t think you heard me.

I thought I was brave for speaking aloud,

But confidence has never well served me.

Admittedly, my scream was a whisper

Because I was terrified of what you might say,

And those three words are precious to me;

I don’t want you to just throw them away.

I haven’t even met you yet,

That yesterday has not come true,

But when it finally does, I can’t wait for tomorrow

Because I’ll spend each day after with you.

I wonder what it is you’re like,

I want to know everything that could be.

Do you lies with eyes open, dreaming a dream

Of meeting somebody like me?

I want to talk to you desperately.

I want to pull you into my now.

I just want to give you a piece of my heart,

And this is the only way I know how.



Please Help!

Hello, friends!

So I am trying to expand my platform, and one way I was told to that is through Instagram. So I have decided to give this a go. 🙂 To start off with, I am using my personal account, so there are going to be posts alongside my poetry posts. However, that is where I am going to start posting my shorter works of poetry. I shall still, of course, post my longer works on this blog! However, if you are interested, please follow me at: poppyannhollingworth

That would be so amazing xx

Of course, like I said earlier, this is my personal Instagram, so there are going to be other posts as well. If you do not appreciate that, then I will not be offended at all if you choose not to follow me. x

Also – I am still eager and accepting of all possible prompts for poetry! Cannot wait to hear your dreams and ideas!

All love xx

Umbrella Days

I bought myself an umbrella

From the shop just down the street.

I didn’t think anyone else wanted it,

But I thought it rather sweet.

It was once bright red, but now like rust,

With a spoke, bent and rusting too.

And to the right, above my head,

There was a hole for the rain to fall through.

When I bought myself this umbrella,

The shop owner repressed a smile.

“I can’t imagine why you’d want it,” said he,

“It’s been knocking around for a while.”

“Because it smells like stories,” I replied,

“And of books that have never been read.

“And I believe whatever the weather,

“That’s something I’d want above my head.”

The man gave a shrug and took my change,

And he offered me a bag.

“To protect your hair in the storm outside,” he claimed,

“It’s better than that rag.”

I thanked him politely but declined,

And opened the umbrella once I’d left his space.

It made me smile as the stories fell

Like raindrops on my face.



Here is my first poem inspired by suggestion! I hope that you enjoy it, and I can’t wait to here more! Just comment or send me a message, and I will write one for you as well. xx


Let’s stand together at the end of the world,

My hand in yours and yours in mine.

And even if the sky falls in shards around us,

Let’s stand together and pretend that it’s fine.

Let’s have a picnic only just before winter,

When the air has turned cold and bare.

We’ll eat summer strawberries and drink chilled champagne,

And laugh as though we haven’t a care.

Let’s go for long walks when the good weather has ended,

And the air tastes like it’s going to rain.

All I want is to live all these endings with you

Because I can’t wait for the beginnings again.


Something For You and Something For Me

Hello, friends!

So I know that many of you have probably noticed that I haven’t posted for a while. This is because a) I have been busy, and b) I’ve been experiencing a bit of writer’s block… :/

So I was just wondering –

Would you like a poem?

Message me or comment something you want me to write about, and I will write a poem just for you! xx If you are happy for me to post then I would love that, and love being able to use this site to share people’s ideas and my inspiration. If you would rather have the poem as yours and yours alone, then I can email it to you privately!


Please let me know and give me ideas! I cannot wait to get to know you.


Mongouli Bay

Today I found a looking glass

Along the shore of Mongouli Bay.

I thought it strange to find it there,

But amongst the waves it lay.

I picked up the glass and looked inside

To see what was reflected there.

I found the mirror image I’d expected to view,

Except of pretence it was stripped and bare

Of lies and fabrications created

To try and hide my heart,

And all the walls I’d carefully sculpted

Had been torn and worn apart.

For Mongouli Bay is where I can be

Well and truly me.

Where I don’t have to hide in a looking glass

And perfect what others might see.

That’s what I love most about the Bay,

Although I hate the beach and sand,

I can look towards the waves and dream with the wind,

But stand assuredly on the land.

Now you’ve never heard of Mongouli;

I know that’s what you’re about to say.

Nobody knows of it for I made it up,

But who knows?

Maybe I’ll take you some day.






She made him a universe because the real one was too big. She took a tear from his eye onto the tip of her finger and told him it was an ocean, but that made him confused because the teardrop was too small. She told him the trick with oceans is that they don’t have to be huge, they just have to have life. He told her he’d seen the ocean and it scared him because there was too much. Too much what? she asked him, but he couldn’t answer because there was just too much everything. You’re an ocean, she told him one night when the world was too big, but the evening had shrunk. The ocean changes all the time, he said back, and with care, she removed another teardrop from the corner of his eye and kept it safe in her palm for later. She waited and waited until he fell asleep because that was the best time to get him to listen. In the loudest whisper he could never hear, she said she loved that he changed like the ocean, that he wore down walls and was dark and entangled beneath the surface. Then she fell asleep as the night stretched and grew taut as though it should snap but didn’t know how. They slept like a world, a globe, a universe, tangled together and breathing as one. He lay with his head on her chest because she was his land, solid as his shore, and she swam away in a teardrop.